Fringe review: ‘A 3-Decker Romance’

But if you do love a Boston accent — all those broad A’s and missing R’s — and if you love the idea of a guy telling stories set in the old-fashioned neighborhoods of Boston, Bernie O’Brien is your guy.

O’Brien isn’t an actor: He paces the stage, waves his hands and wears a baseball cap that hides his eyes, and you begin to wish a director had canned the opening voiceover, placed him at a chair and table and ordered him to stay.

But the stories he tells about growing up in first-generation Irish-Catholic Boston are charming, and O’Brien can be very funny. There’s something guffaw-producing about an old-timer with a booming voice telling you the most important expression of his childhood — I don’t want to give it away, but it’s wicked — or detailing the number of glazed donuts the 6-year-old version of himself managed to down. O’Brien has become a familiar face at the Fringe; for those who like to listen, it’s not hard to see why.